


seeing red

by dragonbagel



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), this is after all the issues in infinity war are...solved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonbagel/pseuds/dragonbagel
Summary: while trying to be the hero, peter gets in way over his head.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for my [pal](http://ragnell-s.tumblr.com)

Peter thought that he would be used to pain at this point. Seriously, how many times had he gotten his ass kicked by now? All those fights with the Vulture, that weird battle against Captain America and his cohort, a literal war for the fate of humanity, not to mention the regular superpower-less criminals that still managed to throw a surprisingly good punch—it was truly shameful that he hadn’t managed grow some sort of metaphysical shell of high pain tolerance in addition to the outstanding number of cuts and bruises he regularly sustained.

But no, Peter still winced and cried out (albeit in a subtle, muffled way). He still cursed and bit back tears when he fell or was hit, or even when he stubbed his toe or got a paper cut. And right now, it felt like a billion miniature paper cuts were ripping their way through his body. The pain was sharp and consuming, like the bite of a hardy manila envelope into the sensitive flesh of his fingers, only a million times over. He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to end up in his current situation; one minute he’d been using his abilities to prevent what was clearly about to be a brutal midnight stabbing in a nearby abandoned alleyway, and the next thing he knew, he’d been pounced on by a strange red creature that he was certain hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Get off me!” Peter grunted, attempting to shove the attacker off of where it was currently pinning him onto the cold concrete. The thing, which Peter reasoned was definitely not human, didn’t budge, digging its knife-like claws into Peter’s chest and easily tearing through the fabric of his suit. He screamed as the fresh wounds throbbed, the assaulting weapons which he now realized were _ literal _ blades and carving knives extending from the red, vapor-like body ripping through his skin. Its glowing eyes stared at him like a predator, a snake-like tongue protruding from behind rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Fear coursing through him, Peter pushed even harder at what he assumed to be the creature’s chest, though he felt unnervingly weak. His senses, typically heightened to the point of being overwhelming, were utterly dull, as if he’d been mummified and wrapped in cotton balls. What the hell was going on? He decided to switch tactics, instead firing webs from his wrists in an attempt to at least startle the thing enough to make it vulnerable. Except...except the webs wouldn’t come out. He clenched his fists, willing the carefully crafted technology to work. But it was to no avail, and Peter was left feeling more helpless and terrified than he had in a long, long time. And, of course, in a lot of freaking pain.

He glanced at the other button adorning his wrist, the one that he’d vowed to himself that he would never use. If he called Mr. Stark for help, he’d definitely be kicked off of the Avengers for good. He could figure this out on his own, goddammit! 

In a surge of strength and determination that he didn’t know he possessed, Peter grabbed the creature’s wrists, groaning with exertion as he forced the hands to loosen their purchase on him. The sharp pain of the strange, nearly translucent blades being ripped from his chest threatened to tip him into unconsciousness, but he grit his teeth and continued to push. As the immediate pain receded, Peter nearly laughed; friendly neighborhood Spider-Man wins again! That is, until a second, demon-like face peeled itself off alongside the first one. 

This creature, even more haunting than the first, had slimy black skin, nearly invisible in the darkness. Peter squinted as he made out the outlines of even more teeth, somehow even sharper than those of the red monster’s, which were still snapping at him as if he was some sort of delicious snack. 

The obsidian face wasted no time in inching closer to Peter’s so that they nearly touched, its frigid breath ghosting across Peter’s cheeks and sending a shiver through his body. He barely noticed the way that the monsterish foe had overpowered him once again, the inky nothingness threatening to consume him even more distracting than the blood being ripped from his body. There was a hiss, and the creature’s jaw swung open to reveal the empty void of its throat.

Emptiness. Darkness.

_ Mr. Stark? I don’t feel so good… _

Peter shook his head. Now was  _ not  _ the time for this, as he was fairly certain this thing was moments from literally tearing his head off. But that darkness, that bone-rattling chill…

_ I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t...I don’t wanna go… _

The shadows threatened to consume him, obscure him completely. He was paralyzed, unable to fight back as the red, venomous face clanked its teeth together and licked the area where its lips should have been. In a single jolting movement, almost as if he’d been shocked, Peter slammed his wrist into his bruised thigh, pressing the button attached there.

_ Sir, please…Please. I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go… _

He clenched his eyes shut as an impossibly long forked tongue flicked over his face, his entire body shuddering in a mixture of panic and pain.

_ I’m sorry. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tony just can’t seem to catch a fucking break

Tony groaned as his watch vibrated against his wrist. He’d purposefully ordered JARVIS to silence and filter any notifications for the night, as he was in need of some serious R & R after the nightmarish week he’d had. The endless business meetings, the frustratingly monotonous suit tune-ups, the bickering with that asshole Steve Rogers over useless yet infuriating issues—yeah, he definitely deserved the expensive bottle of booze he’d just popped open.

“JARVIS, what did I say about bothering me?” he said with a sigh, more exhausted than annoyed as he poured his drink.

The robotic voice that immediately responded, while usually appreciated by Tony, actually managed to get on his already frazzled nerves. “You demanded that I ‘shut the hell up and leave you alone for the night,’ sir.”

Tony smirked at his words before returning to reprimanding his robot. “Then why the hell am I getting business calls?”

“Sir, this is not a business call. It’s an emergency distress signal from Peter Parker.”

The words, though practically monotone, sent a freezing jolt through Tony as he sat up from his lounging position, quickly pulling up his holographic control panel with a flick of his wrist. He half expected the signal to be an accident, as the kid never seemed to run out of self-assuredness and an insane need for responsibility. But after what had happened on Titan, the moment of hopelessness that still haunted his dreams despite the reversal of the gauntlet’s effects...well, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Send a drone to check on the kid,” Tony ordered, already pulling up the video footage playing live from a mounted camera. He watched as the city whizzed past, the view almost nauseating.

It wasn’t nearly as sickening as what Tony saw when the drone reached its target.

Peter was struggling to fight what was clearly a losing battle with some freaky red creature, his body appearing impossibly small and vulnerable as his thrashing weakened.

“What the hell is that thing?” Tony asked, the angry edge in his voice attempting to mask the fear beginning to bubble inside him.

After a series of beeping noises, a name appeared in neon blue letters alongside a now frozen and zoomed-in image: Carnage.

The name meant nothing to Tony, and he harshly requested a full profile report as his suit unfolded around him. By the time JARVIS began to speak directly into his helmet, Tony was already in the air.

“Carnage, formerly known as Cletus Kasady, is a symbiote of the alien known as Venom.”

Tony groaned. Great, another fucking alien—just what the metaphorical doctor hell-bent on ruining his life ordered.

JARVIS continued, unfazed by Tony’s response. “Carnage is reported to have homicidal tendencies and psychosis, and recently escaped from the Raft.”

So the guy was a serial killer who escaped from the highest security prison known to humanity. Man, this disaster of a situation just kept getting better (and by better, naturally, he meant way fucking worse).

“How do I kill this guy?” Tony asked, slowing down his frantic flying pace as he neared Peter’s location.

“Locating known files,” JARVIS replied, a steady humming sound indicating the analysis of what was undoubtedly thousands of records and files.

He sighed as he received no immediate tips, resigning himself to doing this the old fashioned way. If he had to leave his fancy drink behind, at least this way he could get out some of his anger via rocket-powered ass-kicking.

His first move upon closing in on the two dimly lit figures in the alleyway was to barrel directly into the reddish thing—Carnage, he mentally corrected himself—and pushing it away from Peter. The kid looked unnaturally still, and Tony forced his attention back to the disgustingly two-headed villain untangling itself from the rubble of the wall it’d been slammed into.

It hissed, leaping forward at an impossible speed and tackling Tony out of the air. He hit the ground with a thud, his suit absorbing the majority of the impact. He then swung a fist, hooking Carnage in its second, blackish head and grimacing in disgust as the face was absorbed back into the red skin with a foul gurgling sound. He pushed himself to his feet, rearing back and swinging his fist again, only to have the motion halted by what looked like a butcher’s tool box hacking at his arm. He recoiled as the metal sparked, aiming a kick at where he estimated Carnage’s balls to be and grinning as the alien hunched back in pain.

“That all you got, Edward Scissorhands?” he taunted, propelling himself closer and lining up another kick. Yet before he could land that oh-so-satisfying blow, his other leg was dragged out from underneath him by a crimson hand that he hadn’t even noticed move, causing him to lose his balance. Carnage easily rounded on him, towering over him and wasting no time in clawing at his armor and attempting to free his flesh. He batted at the hands scraping him all over, especially as he felt them latch onto a crevice between the suit’s plating and _pull_.

“Hey JARVIS?” he said, activating his boots and flying out of Carnage’s grasp. “Any tips?”

“I am still searching,” came the response, tinny and drowned out by the alerts that his suit was taking damage.

“Well, can you search faster?” he snapped, attempting to block a punch and having a strangely dexterous hand rip off a piece of metal plating in the process.

“Sir, information on this creature is extremely limited. Some files I encountered suggest usage of sonics, but—“

He was cut off by an obnoxiously loud stream of poorly mixed dubstep being a emitted from Tony’s suit, the sound causing Carnage to recoil and shrink away. However, the victory fueling Tony’s ever-growing ego was short lived, as Carnage soon appeared to become immune to the sounds that even Tony felt fatigued by.

“Anything else?” he asked, once again returning to his strategy of punching and kicking.

“As I was saying,” the program responded, its artificial tone echoing slightly. “The effect of the sonics is limited. Instead, the Raft recoments usage of fire to placate the criminal.”

“Fire?” Tony repeated, raising his brow. “Yeah, I can do fire.”

He turned back to Carnage, who was regarding him like a snack (though not the sexy kind). He didn’t exactly have a flamethrower handy, and he doubted a Zippo lighter would have much of an impact. He did, however, have literal rockets in his feet, which would have to be good enough.

Focusing his suit’s energy on the boots’ thrusters, Tony launched himself back towards Carnage, stopping himself just short of contact and kicking his feet forward. Holding up his weight with the smaller propulsors in his hands was a shaky effort at best, but having sore arms tomorrow was worth the creature’s screech of pain that was oh so satisfying. Tony laughed, tempted to lower his facial visor to taunt Carnage more effectively before remembering that he was currently acting as an off-brand Human Torch. Instead, he smirked to himself as his enemy shrunk away, flames licking at the darkening red skin (that is, if the thing was even made of flesh).

He floated closer, forcing Carnage to back up into the heavily graffitied wall. The thing was curled in on itself in a pitiful attempt to shield its body from the attack, the sight doing wonders for Tony’s ego. His feet were nearly touching the creature, whose skin was bubbling and hissing at the heat. Tony could nearly taste victory, the flavors of satisfaction and a hint of white wine sweet on his tongue.

Then Carnage lunged forward, and Tony’s body was yanked backwards by some invisible force that, unfortunately, wasn’t his superhuman reflexes.

Theoretically, he knew that those warped-looking claws should have gotten him. He should have been shish-kabobed by now, a frankly hilarious way to go but unappealing nonetheless. His body hit the ground with a thud, and his suit dug painfully into his skin as it dented at the sudden impact with the cigarette-butt-covered ground.

Tony groaned, his dazed eyes spotting Carnage slinking off into the night amidst the warning screens obscuring most of his vision. He removed his helmet with a sigh, turning from side to side in an attempt to figure out exactly what the hell had just happened. One particularly intense twist, no doubt achievable due to his grim agreement to attend a yoga class, brought his gaze to a trail of white leading from his back. A web.

“Kid?” he said, trying to quell his mounting panic.

He managed to rip the web off of his back so that he could better follow its trail, steps shaky as he finally found Peter. The kid was crumpled on the ground, the web that he’d used to grab Tony still attached to his wrist. Tony knelt at his side, pulling the red mask off to reveal Peter’s unnaturally pale face.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Tony couldn’t keep the waver out of his voice as he snapped.

Peter chuckled, a small dribble of blood leaking out of the corner of his split lips. “Isn’t this the part where you thank me? I did just save you.”

Tony rolled his eyes, attempting to distract himself from the growing crimson stain marring Peter’s half-exposed chest. “This isn’t funny.”

Peter coughed, the sound wet. “Never said it was.”

He groaned as he attempted to push himself up to sit, Tony watching nervously. His heart clenched as Peter’s arms faltered, and he fell once again onto his back.

“Shit,” he groaned, clenching his blood-stained teeth.

“Hey, language,” Tony reprimanded, though there was no malice in his voice.

He slid an arm under Peter to help him sit, his other hand snaking beneath his knees to lift him. Peter’s face scrunched up in pain as his wounds were jostled, and Tony’s throat felt far too tight as he finally saw just how deep they were. Jesus, the kid looked like he’d been through a meat grinder.

His eyes had closed, Tony noticed with a pang of fear, and he tried to rouse Peter with a shake. It was to no avail; Peter remained nauseatingly still, his body limp. Tony grit his teeth. Everything was going to be okay. The medical supplies from that genius yet infuriatingly snarky girl Shuri should be able to fix this whole clusterfuck of a situation, he just had to make it back to the tower before—

Tony stopped his thought in its tracks. No, there was no way he was losing Peter again. Readjusting his grip once more, he took off towards home.

"Don't worry, kid," he whispered. "I've got you."

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated!  
> support me on ko-fi [here](http://Ko-fi.com/dragonbagel)  
> tumblr: [dragonbagel](http://dragonbagel.tumblr.com)


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